PREFACE. 



| In fele&ing the Songs, Madrigals and Sonnets in this 
I little volume, I have merely endeavoured to choofe 
i thofe which are the raoft familiar and the mofl pleafant. 
The only arrangement that has been attempted is like 
that of a orarden : flowers of all a^es and all hues are 
i fet fide by fide, each adding to the general beauty. 

As Madrigals and Sonnets are of Italian origin, bor- 
j ders of an Italian character of defign have been thought 

I the moft appropriate decoration. 
J. c. 

Camden Cottages, 
December 1848. 



" I had rather than forty millings I had my book 
of Songs and Sonnets here.'' 

Merry tVives ofWindJor^ Act I. Sc. i. 



t 



J 

SONGS MADRIGALS AND 



(^xw<5 v %&xvQXr^ 



SONNETS. 



A GATHERING OF SOME OF THE MOST 

PLEASANT FLOWERS OF OLD 

ENGLISH POETRY. 

SET IN BORDERS OF COLOURED ORNAMENTS 
AND VIGNETTES. 





» » > 
» * 

* * ' 




LONDON: 




LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND CO. 




1849. 


*\ 





• 




-tR\H f 




i 




Tfo ornamental borders in this book ha<ve been 


printed 


by means of ^wood-blocks . 

! 

,<* : 

: t t 




Charles Whittingham, Chiswick. 





/ 



J> 





CONTENTS. 




Madrigal 


There is a Jewel 


From Wilbye 


Sonnet 


Defcription of Spring 


Earl of Surrey 


Song 


Gather ye Rofebuds 


Herri ck 


Sonnet 


Of the Moon 


Charles Beft 


Sonnet 


To a Redbreaji 


Drummond 


Song 


The Lark now leaves 


Sir W. Davenant 


Sonnet 


To the Nightingale 


Milton 


Sonnet 


On a Calm Sea Profpecl - 


Bampfylde 


Madrigal 


Thine Eyes jo bright 


Watfon 


Sonnet 


hike as a Ship 


Spenfer 


Song 


'Tis noiVffnce I fate down 


Suckling 


Sonnet. 


On Chriftmas 


Bampfylde 


Song 


To Blojfims 


Herrick 


Ode 


Sweet Love mine only treasure 


Watfon 


Song 


. From all uneafy pajjions free 


D. of Buckingham 


Sonnet 


Of the Sun 


Charles Beft 


Sonnet 


Death, be not proud 


Donne 


Song 


To Julia 


Herrick 


Sonnet 


Thrice happy he 


Drummond 



33 

















CONTENTS. 








Song 


In vain you tell 


Prior 






Sonnet 


My Lute, he as thou wert 


Drummond 






Madrigal 


Since I your cherry lips 


Davifon 






Ode 


Sweet day, Jo cool 


Herbert 






Song 


Why Jo pale 


Suckling 






Song 


The Jmiling Morn 


Mallet 






Ode 


When will the Fountain 


Watfon 






Ode 


You meaner beauties of the night 


Wotton 






Song 


Blow, blow, thou winter wind 


Shakfpeare 






Song 


Go lovely Roje 


Waller 






Sonnet 


To the Redbreaji 


Bampfylde 






Sonnet 


On Bathing 


Warton 






Song 


Wine, wine in a morning 


Tom Brown 






Paftoral 


Phillis and Condon 


England's Helicon 






Song 


AJk me no more 


Carew 






Sonnet 


On the Nightingale 


Charlotte Smith 






Song 


When thy beauty appears 


Parnell 






Ode 


Love and Mujic 


Waller 






Sonnet 


Then hate me when thou wilt 


Shakfpeare 






Sonnet 


On the Sabbath Morning 


Leyden 






Song 


Shall I, wafting in dejpair 


Wither 






Song 


I married a wife of late 


From Walton 






Ode 


To Meadows 


Herrick 






Madrigal 


Love in my bojom 


Lodge's Romance 

















CONTENTS. 




Madrigal 


Lady >, your words do fpite me 


From Wilbye 


Sonnet 


The Rolling Wheel 


Spenfer 


Ode 


To Daffodils 


Herri ck 


Sonnet 


Becaufe I breathe not Love 


Sir P. Sidney 


Sonnet 


Like as the Culver 


Spenfer 


Sonnet 


On Echo and Silence 


Sir E. Brydges 


Song 


Come live ivith me 


Kit Marlow 


Sonnet 


To the River Otter 


Coleridge 


Sonnet 


When forty Winters 


Shakfpeare 


Song 


Sabrina fair 


Milton 


Song 


My dear Miftrefs 


Wilmot 


Song 


Your jhining Eyes 


Bird's Colleaion 


Madrigal 


Love me not for comely grace 


From Wilbye 



MADRIGAL, 



There is a jeivel ivhich no Indian mine can buy, 

No chem'ic art can counterfeit ; 

It makes men rich in great eft poverty, 

Makes ivater ivine, turns wooden cups to geld, 

The homely ivhiftle tofweet mufic s ftrain ; 

Seldom it comes, to few from heaven Jent, 

That much in little — all in nought — Content. 

From Wilbye's Madrigals. 




DESCRIPTION OF SPRING. 



v-C^*S^>-> 



The foot e feafon that bud and bloome forth bringes 
With grene hath cladde the hyll, and eke the <vale ,• 
The nightingall ivith j ethers new jhe finges ; 
The turtle to her mate hath told her tale ; 
Somer is come, for every far ay noiv fpringes ; 
The hart hath hung hys old head on the pale ; 
The buck in brake his winter coate he flynges ; 
The fijhes fete ivith netve repay red fcale ; 
The adder all her fough aivay Jhe flynges ; 
The fwift fwalloiv purfueth the fiyes fmalle ; 
The bufy bee her honey boiv jhe mynges ; 
Winter is ivorne that ivas the flour es bale. 
And thus I fee among thefe pleafant thynges 
Each care dec ayes, and yet my forroiv fprynges. 

Earl of Surrey. 



SONG. 



Gather ye rofe-buds as ye may, 

Old Time is Jiill a-fiying ; 
And this fame flower that jmiles to day 

To-morrow ivill be dying. 

The glorious lamp of hea*vn, the fun, 

The higher he's a-getting t 
The fooner ivill his race be run, 

And neerer he's to Jetting, 

The age is beji which is the fir ft, 

When youth and blood are warmer ; 

But being fpent, the ivorfe and worft 
Times ftill fucceed the former. 

Then be not coy, but ufe your time, 
And while ye may, goe marry • 
For having loft but once your prime, 



You may for ever tarry 



Herrick. 



SONNET OF THE MOON. 

Look hoiv the pale Queen of thefilcnt flight 
Doth caufe the Ocean to attend upon her, 
And he, as long as Jhe is in his fight , 
JVith his full tide is ready her to honour : 
But ivhen the fil<ver ivaggon of the Moon 
Is mounted up Jo high he cannot follow, 
The Jea calls home his cryfial waves to moan, 
And ivith loiv ebb doth manifeft his Jorroiv. 
So you, that are the /over eign of my heart, 
Have all my joys attending on your ivill, 
My joys loiv ebbing ivhen you do depart, 
When you return, their tide my heart doth fill. 
So as you come, and as you do depart, 
Joys ebb and fioiv ivithin my tender heart. 

Charles Best. 




TO A REDBREAST. 

Sweet bird, thatfingft away the early hours 
Of winters pajl or coming, 'void of care, 
Well-pleafed with delights which prefent are, 
Fair feafons, budding f prays , fiveet-fmelling flowers 
To rocks, to jprings, to rills, from leafy bowers 
Thou thy Creator s goodnefs dojl declare, 
And what dear gifts on thee he did not f pare ; 
A fain to human fenfe in fin that lowers. 
What foul can befofick, which by thy fongs, 
Attired in fweetnefs, fweetly is not driven 
^uite to forget earth's turmoils, f pit es and wrongs, 
And lift a reverend eye and thought to heaven f 
Sweet artlefs fongfter, thou my mind dojl raife 
To airs of fpheres, yes, and to angels' lays. 

William Drummond. 



rzfrz 



SONG. 



<JfrO^ 



irk noiv leaves his ivafry neft, 
And, climbing, fhakes his deivy wings 
He takes this window for the eaft ; 

And to implore your light, hefngs, 
Azvake, awake, the morn 'will never rife, 
Tilljhe can drefs her beauty at your eyes. 



The merchant bows unto the jeamans far, 
The ploughman from the fun his feafon. takes, 

£.-.: fill the lover wonders what they are, 
Who look for day before his mifrefs tuakes. 

<e, awake, break through your vails of hewn I 

Then draw your curtains, and begin the dawn* 

Sir William Davenant. 





MADRIGAL. 

Thine eyes Jo bright 

Bereft my fight 
When fir ft I vieivd thy face ; 

So noiv my light 

Is turnd to night, 
I ft ray fir om place to place. 

Then guide me of thy kindnefs, 

So Jhall I blefs my blindnefs. 

Thomas Watson, 




SONNET. 



<3sK> 



Like as a Jhip, that through the ocean ivide, 
By conduct of fome far, doth make her ivay, 
IPhenas a ftorm hath dimmd her trujiy guide, 
Out of her courfe doth ivander far aftray ; 
So I, ivhofe far, that ivont with her bright ray 
Me to direct, -with clouds is ouercaft, 
Do ivander noiv, in darknefs and difmay, 
Through hidden perils round about me plaji : 
Tet hope I ivell that, ivhen this form is pajt, 
My Helice, the lodejiar of my life, 
Will foine again, and look on me at laft, 
With lovely light to clear my cloudy grief. 
Till then I ivander careful \ comfort It/}, 
In fecrct forroiv, and fad penfuenefs. 

Edmund Spenser. 






ON CHRISTMAS. 


wHTL 


l^m/ 


J?*& 




With footfep fow, in furry pall y clad y 




[?§ 


His brows enwreatFd with holly never fere , 


' jff 




Old Chrijimas comes, to clofe the waned year ; 


^■^ 


pflj- 


And aye thejhepherd's heart to make right glad ; 


/ B^IBS? 


Who, when his teeming flocks are homeward had 


^^^^B^«=M^^ - ^^Hp 


To blading hearth repairs and nut-broivn beer, 


[(/Mm 


MH . 


And views, well-pleased, the ruddy prattlers dear 
Hug the grey mongrel ; meanwhile maid and lad 
Squabble for roajled crabs. Thee, fi re, we hail, 
Whether thine aged limbs thou dojl enfhroud 






In <vefl offnowy white and hoary veil, 
Or wrappft thy <vifage in a fable cloud ; 


" Mf ■■■^ i^Al 


Thee we proclaim with mirth and cheer y nor fail 


4fl 




To greet thee well with many a carol loud. 


1 




John Bampfylde. 











TO BLOSSOMS. 


j 


r i 


HH^ 


^ 




Fa: re pledges of a fruit full tree. 


0V 


*£} 


Why do yee fall Jo faft f 


Vj~a 




Tour date is not Jo paft, 






But you may fay yet here awhile 


**7 




To blufh and gently Jmile, 
And go at laft. 


& 


TV hat, were yee borne to be 






An houre or half's delight, 
And Jo to bid good night f 


$i 


m 


' Tic as pi tie nature brought yee forth 


ft 


■ '. 


Meerly to fhetv your worthy 


1 


L q 


And loje you quite. 




j 


But you are lovely leaves, where we 


\ 




May read how Joon things haze 


^^^^ 


Their end, though ne'er jo brave: 


y» i 




And after they have jhown their pride, 


T J 


/[ 


Like you, awhile, they glide 


#aWJ 




Into the grave. 


^ 


Herrick. 









ODE. 



°v£tt&> 



i. 



Sweet love, mine 



ly treafure, 
For fervice long unfeigned. 
Wherein I nought ha-ve gained, 
Vouchjaje this little pleafure, 
To tell me in iv/iat part 
My Lady keeps my heart. 



II. 

If in her hair Jo Jlender, 
Like golden nets entwined 
Which jire and art ha-ve jined ; 
Her thrall my heart I render 
For ever to abide 
With locks jo dainty tied. 



III. 

If in her eyes Jhe bind it, 
Wherein that Jire iv 'as framed, 
By ivhich it is inflamed ', 
/ dare not look to find it ; 
I only ivijh it fight, 
To fee that pleafant light. 



, 



IC 



IV. 

But if her breaft have deign d 
With kindnejs to receive it, 
I am content to leave it, 
Though death thereby ivere gained. 

Then, Lady, take your ovjn, 

That lives for you alone. 

Thomas Watson. 













is; 



SONG. 

From all uneafy pajfions free, 
Revenge, ambition, jealoufy, 
Contented I had been too bleft, 
If love and yju bad let me reft ; 
Yet that dull life I now defpije ; 

Safe from your eyes, 
I feared no grief s, but then I found no joys. 

Amidft a thousand kind defires, 
Which beauty moves, and love inspires ; 
Such pangs I feel of tender fear, 
No heart Jo Jo ft as mine can bear. 
Yet Vll defy the ivorft of harms ; 

Such are your charms, 
''Tis ivorth a life to die luithin your arms. 

John Sheffield, Duke ofBuckinghamfhire. 



y£5^-* 



A SONNET OF THE SUN. 



"uSftk/* 



The fun doth make the marigold to flour if?, » 

The fun's departure makes it droop again ; 

So golden Mary s fight my joys do nourijh, 

But by her abjence all my joys arejlain. 

The fun the marigold makes live and die y 

By her the fun J bines brighter, fo may I. 

Her f miles do glad the fun, and light the air. 

Revive my heart, and clear the cloudy Jky ; 

Her frowns the air make dark, the fun to lower, 

The marigold to clofe, my heart to die : 

By her the fun, the flower, the air and I, 

Shine and darken, fpread and clofe, live and die, 

Tou are the fun, you are the golden Mary, 

Faffing the fun in brightnefs, geld in power ; 

/ am the flower whom you do make to vary ; 

Flour ifh vu hen you f mile, droop when you do lower. 

let this heart of gold, fun, and flower, 

Still live and fhine, and fpring in your heart's bower 

Charles Best. 



SONNET. 

Death, be not proud, though jome have called thee 

Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not Jo ; 

For thofe, whom thou think" ft thou do ft overthrow, 

Die not, poor Death ,* nor yet can ft thou kill me. 

From reft and fteep, which hut thy piclures be, 

Much pleafure ; then from thee much more muftftow : 

And fooneft our beft men with thee do go, 

Reft of their bones, and fouls' 1 delivery. 

Thou rt flame to fate, chance, kings, and def per ate men, 

And dofi ivith poijon, war, andfcknefs dwell, 

And poppy or charms can make us fteep as well 

And better than thy ftroke. JVhy fiuellft thou then f 

One Jhort fteep paft, wc ivake eternally j 

And death pall be no more. Death, thoufhalt die. 

Donne. 





TO JULIA. 




S£5&2^> 




Her eyes the gloivzuorme lend thee, 
The Jhooting Jiarres attend thee ; 

And the elves alfo, 

Whofe little eyes glow 
Like the fparks of 'fire , befriend thee ! 




A T o will-o-tti '-ivifpe miflight thee. 
Nor fnake nor Jloivivorme bite thee ; 

But on, on thy way, 

Not making a flay, 
Since ghofl there 1 s none to affright thee. 

Let not the darke thee cumber ; 

What though the moon does flumber, 
The jiarres of the night 
Will lend thee their light, 

Like tapers clear without number ! 


\ 








wmm 




^■~sil fete 




Then, Julia, let me ivooe thee, 
Thus, thus, to come unto me ; 

And, when I pall meet 

Thy filu ' ry feet, 
My fou le V 11 pour e into thee. 




Herrick. 







SONNET. 

Thrice happy he, who by feme Jhady grove, 

Far from the clamorous tuorld, doth live his cict: ; 

Though felitary, ivko is not alone, 

But doth converfe ivith that Eternal Love. 

boiv more feiveet is birds'' harmonious moan, 

0'- the hoar je Jobbings of the ividoivd dove, 

Than thcfe fmooth vohijperings neer a princess throne, 

JVhlch good make doubtful, do the evil approve I 

hoiv more feweet is Zephyr s ivholcfeme breath, 

Ar.d figks embalm d, ivhich neiv-born foicers unfold, 

Than that applaufe vain honour doth bequeath ! 

Hgiv fzueet are Jlr earns to poijon drunk in gold ! 

The icorld is full of horrors, troubles, fights ; 

Woods' harmlejs fhades have only true delights. 

Drummcnd o/~Hawthornden. 



wS^pto^ 



SONG. 

In vain you tell your parting lover, 

You ivijh fair winds may ivaft him over. 

Alas ! ivhat ivinds can happy prove, 

That bear me far from ivhat I love f 

Alas ! ivhat dangers on the main 

Can equal thoje that I Juftain, 

From flighted vows, and cold dijdain f 

Be gentle, and in pity choofe 
To <iv:Jb the ivildeft tempeft loofe ; 
That, thrown again upon the cvaft, 
Where fir ft my Jhipvjreck 'd heart was loft, 
I may once more repeat my pain ,* 
Once more in dying notes complain 
Of flighted vows, and cold dijdain. 

Matthew Prior. 



JP^ 



SONNET. 



^£X£^ 



My lute, be as thou wert when thou didfi grew 
With thy green mother in Jome Jhady grove, 
When immelodious winds but made thee move, 
And birds on thee their ramage did befiow. 
Sith that dear e voice which did thy founds approve 
Which wont in fuch harmonious Jiraines to few, 
Is reft from earth to tune thofe Jpheares above. 
What art thou but a harbinger of woe f 
Thy pleafing notes be pleafing notes no more. 
But orphans'' waitings to the fainting care, 
Eachjirokc ajigh, each found draws forth a teare ; 
For ivhich be Jllent as in woods before. 
Or if that any hand to touch thee daigne, 
Like widow' d turtle, fill her loJJ'e complaine. 

Drummond o/'Hawthornden. 




MADRIGAL. 



^£*3^ 



Since I your cherry lips did kifs, 
Where neclar and ambrofia is, 
My hungry mauo no meat requires ; 
My thirfty throat no drink dejires. 
For, by your breath which then I gain d, 
Cameleon-like , my life's maintained. 

grant me then thofe cherries JIM, 
And let me feed on them my fill, 
If by a furfeit, death I get, 
Upon my tomb let this be Jet, 

" By cherries tioain his life he cherijb'd, 
By cherries twain at length he perijb'd." 

Francis Davison 



■^dsb^ 



VIRTUE. 



Sweet day ^ Jo cool ', Jo calm, Jo bright. 
The br'idall of the earth and Jkie, 
The dew jhall weep thy fall to-night ; 
For thou muji die. 

Sweet roje, ivhoje hew angry and brave 
Bids the rafh ga%er wipe his eye. 
Thy root is ever in its grave, 
And thou muji die. 

Sweet Jpring, full ofjweet dayes and rojes, 
A box where Jweets compacled lie. 
Thy mufck Jhows ye have your clojes, 
And all muji die. 

Only a Jweet and virtuous Joul, 
Like Jeajoned timber, never gives ; 
But though the whole world turn to coal, 
Then chiefly lives, 

George Herbert. 



SONG. 

Why jo pale and ivan, fond lover f 

Pretkee ivhy jo pale f 
Willy when looking loell cant move ha 

Looking ill prevail f 

Prethee ivhy jo pale f 

Why jo dull and mute, young Jlnner ? 

Prethee ivhy jo mute ? 
Will, ivhen jpeaking ivell cant move her, 

Saying nothing doe't ? 

Prethee ivhy jo mute ? 

Quit, quit for fiame ! this ivill not move, 

This cannot take her ; 
Tfcfherjelfjhe ivill not lovc y 

Nothing can make her : 

The divil take her. 

Sir John Suckling. 





SONG. 

i. 

The failing morn, the breathing Jpring 

Invite the tuneful birds tojing : 

And while they warble from each fpray, 

Love melts the universal lay. 

Let us, Amanda, timely wife, 

Like them improve the hour that flies ; 

And, in foft raptures, wafle the day, 

Among the Jhades of Endermay. 

II. 

For foon the winter of the year, 
And age, life's "winter, will appear : 
At this, thy living bloom muft fade ; 
As that will ftrip the verdant Jhade. 
Our tajle of pleasure then is o^er ; 
The feather d fongflers love no more : 
And ivhen they droop, and we decay, 
Adieu the Jhades of Endermay ! 

David Mallet. 



ODE. 

When ivi II the fountain of my tears be dry , 

When ivi 11 my fighs be fpent ? 
When luill defire agree to let me die f 
When ivill thy heart relent ? 
It is not fir my life I plead, 
Since death the ivay to reft doth lead ; 
But ft ay fir thy confent, 
Left thou be dijcontent. 

For if myjelf ivithout thy leave I kill y 

My ghoft ivill never reft ; 
So hath itfzvorn to ivork thine only ivill, 
And holds that ever beft. 
For fine e it only lives by thee, 
Good reafon thou the ruler be : 
Then give me leave to die, 
And Jheiv thy power thereby. 

Thomas Watson 



^&*~ 



ON THE QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 



<-£^^>-> 



I. 

You meaner beauties of the night. 
That poorly fatisfe our eyes. 
More by your number, than your light, 
Tou common people of the Jkies ; 

What are you ivhen the Jun Jhall rife ? 

II. 

You curious chaunters of the ivood, 
That ivarble forth dame Nature "s /ayes, 
Thinking your pajjions under food 
By your iveak accents ; ivhafs your praife, 
When Philomel her 'voice Jhall raije f 

III. 

Ycu --violets, that frjl appear, 
By your pure purple mantles knoivn, 
Like the proud virgins of the year, 
As if the Spring ivere all your oivn ; 
What are you ivhen the roje is bhivn ? 

IV. 

So, ivhen my mifirefs foall be feen % 
In fiveetnejs of her looks and mind, 
By njertuefirfi, then choice, a queen, 
Tell me, ifjhe ivere not defignd 
T'li cclipfe and gl cry of her kind? 

Wottcn. 



SONG. 


SS31 


^C«3^ 


y*/*-~^ — * -\^ 


I. 


^P-lr^ 


Bloiv, blow, thou "winter wind, 


>^ jf 


Thou art not Jo unkind 


Vv 


As mans ingratitude ; 


}pkIryL0n 


Thy tooth is not Jo keen, 




Becaufe thou art not j'een 




Although thy breath be rude. 


Brvkl 


Heigh, ho ! fing, heigh, ho ! unto the green holly : 
Moftfriendfhip is feigning, mofi loving mere folly : 
Then, heigh, ho, the holly ! 




Tf& 


This life is mo ft jolly. 






II. 




\*~\ ^^r 


Freeze, freeze, thou bitter fky 




I* ^^Jmi 


That doft not bite fo nigh 






As benefits forgot : 




Though thou the ivaters ivarp, 


Thyfting is not fo Jharp 


w5\G\ 


As friends remembered not. 




Heigh, ho ! fing, heigh, ho ! &c. 




Shakspeare 









SONG. 

Go, lovely rcje, 
Tell her that ivafies her time and me, 

That nciufie knoivs, 
TVhen I rejemble her to t/iee, 
Hoivfiveet and fair fie feems to be. 

Tell her that's young, 
Andfiuns to have her graces Jpy d, 

That hadfi thou fprung 
In dejarts, ivhere no men abide, 
Thou mufi have, uncommended, dyd. 

Small is the ivorth 
Of beauty from the light retird: 

Bid her come forth, 
Suffer herjdfto be defir" d 
And not blufifo to be admired. 

Then die, that fie 
The common fate of all things rare 

May read in thee : 
Hawfrnall a part of time they fi are, 
That are Jo wondrous Jiveet and fair. 

Edmund Waller. 



TO THE REDBREAST. 

When that the fields put on their gay attire, 
Thou Jilent Jitfft near brake or river's brim, 
Whilft the gay thrujh Jings loud from covert dim ; 
But ivhen pale Winter lights the focial fire. 
And meads ivithjlime arefprent and ivays ivith mire, 
Thou charm? ft us ivith thy J 'oft and folemn hymn 
From battlement, or barn, or hay-ftack trim ; 
And noiv not feldom tun ft, as if for hire, 
Thy thrilling pipe to me, waiting to catch 
The pittance due to thy ivell-ivarbled Jong : 
Sweet bird,fing on ! for oft near lonely hatch, 
Like thee, Myfelf have pleas' d the ruftic throng, 
And oft for entrance, 'neath the peaceful thatch, 
Full many a tale have told and ditty long. 

John Bampfylde. 




-/ 



ON BATHING. 



YA 



When late the trees ivere Jlript by winter pale, 
Toung Healthy a dryad-maid in vejlure green. 
Or like the forefi *s filver -quiver 'd queen. 
On airy uplands met the piercing gale ; 
And ere its earlieji echo pook the vale, 
Watching the hunter s joyous horn, ivas jeen. 
But Jlnce, gay-thrond in fiery chariot jheen, 
Summer has J mote each daijy-dappled dale, 
She to the cave retires, high-arched beneath 
The fount that laves proud Ifn toivery brim, 
And now all glad the temperate air to breathe, 
While cooling drops difiil from arches dim, 
Binding her dewy locks ivithfedgy •wreath, 
She Jits amid the quire of Naiads trim. 

Thomas Warton. 



Il 




SONG. 



^XK5^> 



Wine, ivine in a morning 
Makes us frolic and gay 

That like eagles ive foar, 
In the pride of the day ; 

Gouty Jots of the night 
Only find a decay, 

' Tis the fun ripes the grape 
And to drinking gi-ves light : 

We imitate him 

When by noon 'we're at height 

They fteal ivine, ivho take it 
When he's out of fight. 

Boy, fill all the glajfes, 

Fill them up now he fioines ; 

The higher be rifes 
The more he refines, 

For ivine and ivit fall 
As their maker declines. 



Tom Brown, 



A PASTORAL OF PHILLIS AND 
CORIDON. 



On a hill there gronvs afloiver, 
Fair befal the dainty fzveet ,- 

By that flower there is a boiver, 
Where the heavenly Mujes meet. 

In that boiuer there is a chair , 
Fringed all about ivith gold, 

Where doth fit the faireft fair 
That ever eye did yet behold ; 

It is Phyllis fair or bright, 
She that is the Jhep herd's joy. 

She that Venus did dejpite, 
And did blind her little boy. 

This isjhe, the ivife, the rich, 
That the ivorld defires to fee ; 

This is ipfa quae, the ivhich 
There is none but only Jke. 



Who tvould not this face admire f 
Who ivould not this faint adore f 

Who ivould not this fight defire, 
Though he thought to fee no more ? 

fair eyes, yet let me fee 

One good look y and I am gone ; 
Look on me, for I am he. 

Thy poor filly Coridon, 

Thju that art the Jhepherd's queen, 

Look upon thy filly fwain ; 
By thy comfort have been feen 

Dead men brought to life again, 

England's Helicon 



Co 



'<T.: 



rs 



u 



m 



SONG. 

vf/£ me no more where Love befioivs, 
When June is pafi, the fading rofe ; 
For in your beauty s orient deep 
Thefe floivrs, as in their caufes,fleep. 

Ajk me no more, ivhither do fir ay 
The golden atoms of the day ; 
For, in pure love, heaven did prepare 
Thofe powders to enrich your hair. 

Ajk me no more, ivhither doth hafie 
The nightingale , when May is pafi ; 
For in your fweet dividing threat 
She winters, and keeps warm her note. 

Ajk me no more, where thefe fiars light, 
That downwards fall in dead of night ; 
For in your eyes they fit, and there 
Fixed become, as in their Jphere. 

Ajk me no more, if ' eafi or wefi, 
The Phoenix builds her fpicy nefi ; 
For unto you at lafijhe flies, 
And in your fragrant bofom dies, 

Carew 



ON THE 


*f 


DEPARTURE OF THE 


-JmI 


NIGHTINGALE. 


HN^ 


2Li 


Sweet poet of the woods, a kng adieu ! 


)Lfln 


Farewell, foft minjirel of the early year ! 


^^l 


Ah ! "'twill be long ere thou fhalt fng anew, 


Wt 


And pour thy mufic on the ' night's dull ear." 


^TfA 


Whether on Spring thy wandering flights await, 


ftX T^*L 


Or whether filent in our groves you dwell, 


V Lf 


The penflve Mufe Jhall own thee for her mate, 


jfT^ 


And fill protecl the fongfhe loves Jo well. 


1 r% 


With cautious ftep the love-lorn youth Jhall glide 


\ Vff" * 


Through the l.ne brake that Jhades thy mofljy nejl ; 


■^rte* 


And Jhepherd -girls from eyes profane Jhall hide 


"%a> 




The gentle bird, whoflngs of pity beft : 


^1 


r^L 


For fill thy voice Jhall foft affeBions move, 


^M 


And fill be dear to for row and to love. 


Jf\L 


Charlotte Smith. 


*mh 




\^,ivWs 




\^T 



SONG. 






m 



When thy beauty appears 

In its graces and airs, 

All bright as an angel new dr opt from the fey, 

At dijiance I gaze, and am avSd by my fears, 

So firangely you dazzle my eye. 



But when without art 

Tour kind thoughts you impart, 

When your love runs in blujhes through every vein ; 

When it darts fromyour eyes, when it pants in your heart, 

Then I know you re a woman again. 



" There's a pajjicn and pride 

11 In our J ex, (fee replied) 

" And thus (might I gratify both) I would do, 

" Still an angel appear to each lover bejide, 

" But fill be a ivoman to you.'''' 

Thomas Parnell. 



LOVE AND MUSIC. 

Whilfl I liflen to thy 'voice, 
Chloris, I feel my heart decay ; 
That powerful 'voice 
Calls my fleeting foul aivay : 
Oh ! fupprefs that magic found, 
Which defrays without a ivound. 

Peace, Chi or is, peace ; or fnging die, 
That together you and I 

To heaven may go : 

For all <we knozv 
Of what the bleffed do above 
Is, that they fing, and that they love. 

Edmund Waller. 



jo. 



SONNET. 

Then hate me when thou wilt ; if ever, now ; 

Noiu while the world is bent my deeds 'to crojs, 

Join with the f pit e of fortune, make me bow, 

And do not drop in for an after-lofs : 

Ah ! do not, when my heart hath fcap^d this for row. 

Come in the rearward of a conquer d woe ; 

Give not a windy night a rainy morrow, 

To linger out a purposed overthrew. 

If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me laji, 

When other petty griefs have done their Jpite, 

But in the onjet come ; fojhall I tajie 

At firjl the very worjl of fortune' 's might; 

And other Jirains of woe, which noiu Jeem woe, 

Compared with lojs of thee , will not Jeem Jo. 

Shakspeare. 




ON THE 

SABBATH MORNING. 

JVithJilent aive I hail the Jacred morn, 

That Jloivly ivakes ivhile all the fields are fill ! 

A jooth'ing calm on every breeze is borne ; 

A graver murmur gurgles from the rill ; 

And Echo anjzuers fofter from the hill ; 

And jofter Jings the linnet from the thorn ; 

The Jky-lark ivarbles in a tone lefsjhrill. 

Hail, light ferene! hail, Jacred Sabbath-morn ! 

The rooks float Jilent by in airy drove ; 

The fun a placid yelloiv lufire throws ; 

The gales, that lately Jigh 'd along the grove, 

Have hujb'd their doivny ivings in dead repofc ; 

The hovering rack of clouds forgets to move ; 

So JmiVd the day ivhen the fir Jl morn arofe ! 

John Leyden. 



^><^>(£ls 



THE 

SHEPHERD'S RESOLUTION. 

Shall I, ivafing in defpaire, 

Dye, becaafe a ivomari' 's faire f 

Or make pale my cheeks ivith care 

"Caufe another s rojie are f 

Be foe fairer than the day, 

Or the flew? ry meads in May ; 
If fhe he not fo to me, 
What care I hoivf aire foe he f 

Shall my foolifh heart be pind 

'Caufe I fee a woman kind? 

Or a ivell-difpofed nature 

Joined ivith a lonely feature f 

Be foe meeker, kinder, than 

The turtle-dove, or pelican : 
If foe be not Jo to me, 
What care I hoiv kindefe be f 



Shall a ivomans virtue move 
Me to peri f for her love f 



Or her well-defervings knowne, 
Make me quite forget mine atone f 
Be Jbe with that goodnefje bleft, 
Which may merit name of b eft ; 
If jhe be not fuch to me, 
What care I how good jhe be f 

''Cauje her fortune feems too high, 
Shall I play the fool e and dye ? 
Thofe that beare a noble minde, 
JVhere they want of riches finde, 
Think iv hat with them they would dec, 
That without them dare to woce ; 
And unlefs that minde I fee, 
What care I how great foe be ? 

Great, or good, or kinde, or fair e, 
I will ne'er the more defpaire ,• 
If jhe love me, this beleeve ; 
I will dye ere Jhe Jh all grieve, 
If jhe flight me when I woce, 
I can fcorne and let her gee : 
If fie be not ft for me, 
What care I for whom jhe be ? 

Gecrge Wither. 



CORIDON'S SOXG. 

I. 

/ married a ivife of late, 
morels my unhappy fate : 
I married her for h 
As my fancy did me nun 

And not for a ivorldly ejiate : 

II. 

But oh I the green ficknefs 
:k changed her likenejs ; 
: all her beauty did fail. 

But "'tis not 
With th:_ t 

Through fr of and (nffw, 
As all men kn . 

bail. 



^VlW 



TO MEADOWS. 

Ye have beenfrejh and green, 
Te have been fill 'd with flowers ; 
And ye the walks have been, 
Where maids have f pent their hours. 

Ye have beheld where they 
With wicker arks did come, 
To kifs and bear away 
The richer cow/lips home. 

You've heard them fweetly flng 7 
And Jeen them in a round, 
Each virgin like a fpring 
With honeysuckles crown d. 

But now we fee none here, 
Whofe Jilvery feet did tread, 
And, with difhevelPd hair, 
Adorn d their f moot her mead. 

Like unthriftSy having fpent 
Your flock, and needy grown, 
Ye're left here to lament 
Your poor eflates alone. 

Herrick. 



*■ 



* 



<j 



ROSALIND'S MADRIGAL. 

Love in my bofom, like a bee, 

Doth fuck afweet : 
Now with his wings he plays with me, 

Now 'with his feet : 
Wahin my eyes he makes his nefi, 
His bed amidft my tender breaft ,• 
My kijfes are his daily feafl, 
And yet he robs me of my reji : 
Ah, wanton, will ye! 

And if IJleep, then pierceth he 

With pretty flight ; 
And makes his pillow of my knee 

The live-long night. 
Strike I my lute, he tunes the firing, 
He mufic plays if I but fing ; 
He lends me every lovely thing, 
Tet cruel he my heart doth fing ; 
Ah, wanton, will ye ! 



Elje I with rofes every day 

Will whip ye hence. 
And bind ye, tvhen ye long to play, 

For your offence ; 
1 11 jhut my eyes to keep ye in, 
Vll make you faft it for your Jin, 
I'll count your power not worth a pin, 
Alas ! what hereby pall I win f 
If he gain-Jay me. 

What, if I beat the wanton boy 

With many a rod f 
He will repay me with annoy, 

Becauje a God. 
Then ft thou Jafely on my knee, 
And let thy bower my bojom be ; 
Lurk in mine eyes. I like of thee, 
0, Cupid, Jo thou pity me! 

Spare not, but play thee. 

Lodge's Romance. 

Euphues's Golden Legacy 



<^?^ 



M ADRIGAL. 



^0^3^ 



Lady, your luords do jpite me, 

Tet your fzueet lips Jo foft kifs and delight me ; 

Tour deeds my heart fur charged ivith overjoying, 

Tour taunts my life defiroying ; 

Since both have forced to kill me, 

Let kifles fweet, fzveet, kill me ! 

Knights fight ivith jwords and lances, 

Fight you ivith fmiles and glances, 

So, likefivans of Meander, 

My ghoji from hence Jhall ivander, 

Singing and dying, finging and dying. 

From Wilbye's Madrigals. 




r^c 



S N N E T. 

The rolling ivbecl that runneth often round, 
The bar defl fled in tract of time doth tear ; 
And drizzling drops, that often do redound, 
: firmefl flint doth in continuance ivear : 
cannot I, with many a dropping :. 
And long entreaty, fof ten her bard be 
That fhe luill once * e my plain: 
Or look ivith pity on my painful Jmart. 
But, when I plead, fhe bids me play my part ; 
And, when I weep, Jbe fays, Tears are but 
And, when IJigb, Jbe fays, I know the art } 
And, when I wail, Jbe turns herfelf to laug 
veep, .r:J wail, and 
: as feci and flint doth fill rem 

Edmund Spenser. 


1 /v)\l 


r\ 1 


fv 

2 7 


"". ■"" , 



TO DAFFODILS. 



Faire daffodils , ice lueep tjjee 
You hafte aivay Jo Joone ; 
As yet the early -riftng Jun 
Has not attain d his noone : 
Stay, ft ay , 

Until! the haffning day 
Has run 

But to the even-Jong ; 
And having prafd together, iuc 

JVM goe iv'th you along ! 

fVe have Jhcrt time to ftay, as you 
We have as Jhort a fpring, 
As quick a growth to meet decay 
As you, or any thing: 
We die, 
As your hours doe ; and drie 

Aivay 
Like to the Jummer s raine, 
Or as the pearles of morning deiv, 
AVer to be found again. 

Herrick. 



SONNET. 


« 


^£&3^ 


«^u 


Becauje I breathe not love to every one, 


s^/f^t 


Nor do not ufe Jet colours for to wear, 


Ij^^^fr 


Nor nourifh fpecial locks of vowed hair 


W 


Nor give each fpeech a full point of a groan ; 


J»-nXx 


The courtly nymphs, acquainted with the moan 


V *k 


Of them who in their lips Love's flan dard bear, 


w ^^. 


What, he f fay they of me, novj I dare fivear 


j^ygy ^ 


He cannot love ! no, no ,• let him alone. 
And think fo flill, Jo Stella know my mind ! 


^SF 


Profefs indeed I do not Cupid's art ; 


M SfRJk 


But you, fair maids, at length this true fhall find, 


y^Bry 


That his right badge is but worn in the heart. 


9M& 


Dumb fzvans, not chattering pies, do lovers prove : 


j/ K 


They love indeed, who quake to fay they love. 


M 


Sir Philip Sidney. 


Jec? 


«l 







SONNET. 

Like as the culver, on the bared b-jugh, 
Sits mourning for the abjence of her mate, 
And in her fongs fends many a ivijhful ww 
For his return, that feems to linger late : 
So I alone, noiu left dif-confolate, 
Mourn to myjclf the abfence of my hove ; 
And, ivand'ring here and there all deflate, 
Seek iv'.th my plaints to match that mournful dove : 
Ne joy of aught that under heaven doth hove, 
Can comfort me but her own joyous fight ; 
Whofe fiveet ajpeel both God and man can move, 
In her unj potted pleafance to delight. 
Dark is my day, ivhiles her fair light I mijs, 
And dead my life, that ivantsfuch lively blifs. 

Edmund Spenser. 




ON 

ECHO AND SILENCE. 

In eddying conrje ivhen leaves began to fly, 

And Autumn in her lap the fiore to ftreiv, 

As 'mid ivildfcenes I chancd the Mufe to ivoo, 

Through glens untrod and ivoods that froivn don high, 

Tiuo fleeping Nymphs ivith ivonder mute Ifpy ! — 

And lo,jhes gone ! — in rcbe of dark- green hue, 

"Tiuas Echo from her ffter Silence fieiu : 

For quick the hunters horn refounded to the Jky ! 

In Jhade affrighted Silence melts aivay. 

Net Jo her fifier ! — hark, for onivard fill 

With far -heard ftcp Jhe takes her liftening ivay, 

Bounding from rock to rock, and hill to hill ! 

Ah, mark the merry maid in mockful play 

With thousand mimic tones the laughing for eft fill ! 

Str Egerton Brydges. 



^X&> 




THE MILKMAID'S SONG, 




I. 

Come live ivith me, and be my love, 
And ive ivill all the pleafures prove 
That valleys, groves, or hills, or field, 
Or ivoods, and fieepy mountains yield. 

II. 

TVhere ive ivill fit upon the rocks, 
And fee the Jhep herds feed our fiocks 
By Jhalloiv rivers, to ivhofe falls 
Melodious birds fing madrigals. 

III. 

And I ivill make thee beds of rcfes, 
And then a thoufand fragrant pofies ; 
A cap of fioivers, and a kirtle 
Embroidered all ivith leaves of myrtle ; 

IV. 

A gown made of the fine fl ivool, 
Which from our pretty lambs ive pull $ 
Slippers lin d choicely for the cold, 
With buckles of the purefi gdd : 



A belt offlraiv, and ivy -buds. 
With coral clajps and amber Jluds : 
And if thefe pleajures may thee move, 
Come live ivith me, and be my love. 

VI. 

Thy filver dip es for my meat, 
As precious as the gods do cat, 
Shall, on an ivory table, be 
Prepared each day for thee and me. 

VII. 

The jhepberd-fivains jhall dance and fin g 
For thy delight each May-morning : 
If thefe delights thy mind may move, 
Then live ivith me, and be my love. 

Kit Marlow. 











1 . 


! 


tV 


TO THE RIVER OTTER. 


■Qf\ 




<^ibs> 




^^■^^ 


Dear native brook ! ivild jlreamlet of the Wefi '. 




r^ 


Hozu many -various-fated years have paji, 






What happy ) and ivhat mournful hours, Jince laji 


kiA 


3? 


I ' Jkhnmd thefmooth thin ftone along thy breafi, 


\ ftfj 


Numbering its light leaps ! yet Jo deep imprejl 




i 


: the fzveet jccnes of childhood, that mine eyes 




I never Jhut amid the funny ray, 


4^1 




But ftraight ivith all their tints thy ivaters rife, 




Ja~ w^ » 


Thy cr offing plank, thy marge ivith ivilloivs g>'ey, 


/"J^r^ 


IJVj 


And bedded fand that, veined ivith various dyes, 


I B ^V 




Gleam d through thy bright tranfparence ! On my v \ 


? ^| 




V 'fons of childhood I oft have ye beguiVd 


,, 




yet ivaking fondejl fgbs : 


*-> ^ 




'. could I be once ??:ore a carelefs child ! 


* ,~^ 
; 




S. T. Coleridge. 


! 






v 




<%0*p& 









SONNET. 

When forty winters Jkal I bejiege thy brow, 
And dig deep trenches in thy beaut ie^s field, 
Thy youth! s proud livery, jo gazed on now, 
Will be a tattered weed off mall worth held; 
Then being a/JCd where all thy beauty lies, — 
Where all the treasure of thy lufiy days — 
To jay "within thine own deep Junken eyes/ 1 
Were an all-eating jhame and thriftlefs praije ; 
How much more praije deferv 'd thy beauty's ufe, 
If thou couldji anfwer " This fair child of mine 
Shall fum my 'count, and make my old excufe," 
Proving his beauty by Juccejfion thine: 
This were to be new-made when thou art old, 
And fee thy blood warm when thcufeelfi it cold. 

Shakspeare. 



W51^^ 



SONG. 



Sabrina fair, 

Lijien where thou art fitting 
Under the glajjy, cool, tranjlucent wave, 

In tivijled braids of lilies knitting 
The looje train of thy amber-dropping hair ; 

Lijien, for dear Honour's fake, 

Goddefs of the Silver lake, 
Lijien and Jan) c, 
Lijien and appear to us, 
In name of great Oceanus ; 
By t)i earth-Jbaking Neptune's mace • 
And Thetis' grave majejiic pace ; 
By hoary Nereus" ivrinkled look, 
And the Carpathian <zvi%ard 's hook ; 
By Jcaly Triton s ivinding Jhell, 
And old Jcoth-Jaying Glaucus Jpell ; 
By Leucothea s lovely hands, 
And her Jon that rules the Jlrands ; 
By Thetis' tinjel-flipper d feet, 
And the Jongs of Sirens Jiveet ,• 



By dead Parthenope's dear tomb, 
And fair Lygea's golden comb 
Wherewith Jbe fits on diamond rocks, 
Sleeking her f oft alluring locks ; 
By all the nymphs that nightly dance 
Upon thy f reams, ivith ivily glance ; 
Rife, rife, and heave thy rofy head 
From thy coral-paven bed, 
And bridle in thy headlong ivave, 
Till thou our fummons anfiver d have. 
Lift en and fa<ve. 

John Milton. 




SONG. 

a 

My dear mijirejs has a heart 
Soft as thoje kind looks Jhe gave me, 
When with levels rejijilejs art. 
And her eyes, Jhe did enjlave me. 
But her conftancy 's fo weak, 
She's jo wild and apt to wander, 
That my jealous heart would break 
Should we live one day afunder. 

Melting joys about her move 
Thrilling pleajures, wounding blijjh : 
She can drefs her eyes in love, 
And her lips can warm with kijjes. 
.Angels UJicn when jhe /peaks, 
She's my delight, all mankind's wonder ; 
But my jealous heart would break 
Should we live one day ajunder. 

John Wilmot, Earl ofRocheftei 



V) 



1 


ifc*F 


SONG. 


is 


Tour pining eyes and golden hair, 


~JA 


Tour lily rofed lips moftfair, 


Tour other beauties that excel, 


fft^LY 1 


Men cannot choofe but like them ivell ; 


/f^'^E/j 


But ivhenfor them they Jay they'll die, 


w 


Believe them not, they do but lie. 

From Bird's Colle&ion. 




m 


m 


T^F^M* 




v3^)i 


, 


£*^*s 



MADRIGAL. 



Love me not for comely grace. 
For my pleafing eye or face ; 
Not for any out-ward par:, 
No , nor for my conjiant heart ; 
For tkoje may fall, or turn to ill, 
And thus ive love fhall fever : 
Keep, therefore, a true ivomans eye, 
And love me full, 
Tet know not v: 
So haft thou the fame reafonft. 
To dote upon me ever. 

From Wilbye's Madrigals 




fp -2 na 









LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

lilt 111 II I ; 




013 979 243 9 









